


Retaliation?

by sassycloset



Category: SHINee
Genre: Humor, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 12:16:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14568828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassycloset/pseuds/sassycloset
Summary: "Jonghyun keeps scrolling down his Twitter, treat forgotten.Forgotten."





	Retaliation?

**Author's Note:**

> (Warning: suggestive connotations)  
> Prompt: [this ](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/bc/3a/c8/bc3ac8b82fa74305cf0efe7f5fd1ebf2.jpg) [thIS](http://images6.fanpop.com/image/photos/36800000/-Taemin-Ice-Cream-lee-taemin-36830619-272-361.jpg) [anD THIS ](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/76/ea/33/76ea33df46e0d3dfaf0ebf78ff6328ca.gif)  
> [Tumblr](http://thesassycloset.tumblr.com/post/173667092830/retaliation)

They just finish watching their second movie when Jinki suddenly sighs about being hungry. At that, Minho pauses in the middle of switching to the third MCU movie in the timeline to assess his own craving. Two of five. Everything goes quiet as the rest check themselves too. Five of five.

However, with how packed their schedules have been recently and little to no time to catch a breath, energy and motivation to do something about it are nowhere to be seen.

“It’s the youngest’s job, anyway.” Jonghyun grumbles, melts on the recliner as he busies himself with his phone.

And being the one who just came back from rehearsing his own solo concert plus their new choreo, the look Taemin gives him is both displeased and betrayed. He turns to the others - expectant, hopeful, _pleading_. Some other day, Minho would have happily offered to go with him, to share the burden. Some other day, Kibum would have taken pity on him and diverted the idea to Jinki’s senior status. Some other day, the oldest would have called their manager for the favor.

But leave it to three exhausted old men to bandwagon without a second thought.

Such is his luck.

Sighing, Taemin unfolds from the slump on his own recliner, begrudgingly stands up and turns to the three sprawled all over each others on the couch. There’s no way out of going now, but no way in hell is he gonna pay for all of them.

Jinki is half expecting that and already has a generous bill out before Taemin can thrust his hand at him in demand. He looks at it forlornly, but takes it nonetheless.

Before going on his way, Taemin makes sure to shoot a glare at the one who sentenced him. And Jonghyun would’ve noticed had he not been _pretending_ to be _very interested_ in his SNS.

 _Ass_.

With a quiet huff, a quick check for his phone and keys, Taemin is out of the door.

 

* * *

 

By the time Taemin is back from the convenience store, the three of them are half asleep already.

Minho is the first to jolt upright at the sound of the door. He had been dozing off atop Kibum, so the movement creates a chain reaction on the rapper, who had fallen asleep over the other equally comatose man. Taemin seems to have a better mood now even while half awake, Jinki notices, but that might be because he’s already started on his vanilla and banana ice cream mix.

Either way, Taemin’s very civil and gracious when he hands over the bag of stuff for its distribution. Minho and Kibum immediately perk up, jump over each other to get their hands on the content, while Jonghyun remains off on his own world, typing away on his phone as Taemin slumps back on his seat.

He watches them closely — how Jinki teases Kibum about the exact amount of snacks he’d have to eat so as to not gain weight, how Minho has a silent monologue with debate included about what snack goes with what drink and what movie, how Jonghyun _keeps scrolling down his Twitter_ , treat forgotten.

 _Forgotten_.

Laying alone in the bag that Minho monopolized and then dropped to the side — _Jonghyun’s_ side. Yet, there it is: disregarded, _ignored_.

Taemin seethes internally, absent-minded chomping a chunk out of his ice cream. How _dare_ he. Just. How _dare_ he force the endeavor on him and then—

Ah. _Fuck_.

Brain freeze.

Taemin scowls at his cone, the missing hunk, the sticky mess on his napkin, the glistening cream dripping on his cone, over his fingers…

He stares for five whole seconds.

Minho hits play on Iron Man 2 then, because now Bruce is just not the same without his boy Ruffalo and Jonghyun’s too distracted with his phone to complain. Kibum takes it upon himself, though, slaps his arms halfheartedly until he changes it back to the rightful order.

Stupid Kim brothers and their stupid crush on Norton.

And still, Kibum keeps bothering him after he does, after it starts; leans on Jinki to poke him with his foot. The initial credits are still rolling in, the brief cinematography of Bruce’s tragic accident, so Minho calculates enough time to wrestle him out of Jinki’s hold, tickle the strategic points to make him surrender, and dives into his prey—

A moan.

He freezes.

He checks Kibum. Kibum checks him. Neither of them. They turn to Jinki.

And then, they follow his blank look all the way to Taemin.

His breath catches.

Taemin’s reclined on his chair, eyes closed and pink tongue swirling around the cone held lightly between his fingers. The cream is already melting on all sides and he moves slowly, languidly to catch all droplets with the tip before bringing them in to smear on his lips. He bites the flesh, gnaws at them and sucks with a content sigh before repeating the process — twirl, swirl and slide along the whole sticky substance.

Minho’s brains is already out of order when Taemin does _the thing_.

The thing where he stills for just a second, stares half-lidded at the top as if marvelling at the sight, and then _goes_ _down_ on it. Takes it all the way in with a low moan. Some of the white liquid smearing on his plush lips, trailing down his chin.

Heat shoots straight down.

Once Taemin pulls out and catches the mess around his mouth with his index —ever so slowly bringing it inside to taste with gusto and lingering perhaps a little too long on the action— Minho’s suddenly very aware of the situation.

He’s a hundred percent sure he won’t be able to stand if asked to. He’s also a hundred percent sure he’s not the only one aware of such a show, what with the continuous string of drawn out noises and slick sounds overshadowing the background music from the intro. Yet, no one is saying _anything_ to stop him; the movie now three minutes in and completely overlooked by everyone in the room. But why… He turns sideways to Jinki, who seems at a loss; to Kibum, who’s gawking at him; to Jonghyun, who’s—

Minho does a double-take.

—Whose narrowed eyes are fixed on the dancer, pupils _blown_ as all fuck, the tiniest smirk playfully tugging on one side and phone abandoned between his hands.

He kinda gapes at him for a moment, glances between the two of them a couple of times before he decides to notify Kibum about the situation by elbowing him on his side. The rapper leans over slowly, unnoticeably, gaze still fixed on one side of the display while Minho’s on the other; until the taller man grabs him by the chin and forces his perturbed expression to face his end.

Kibum chokes.

Just then, a high sound of pleasure spills from Taemin’s lips and they can _hear_ the long and measured breath that Jonghyun takes in; they can _see_ the way his chest rises with the action, the way his shoulders tense, the way his fingers grip the phone a little tighter, the way he shifts his hands lower to conceal his—

 _Oh_.

“You eat ice cream like you suck dick.” Jonghyun growls — low, raspy, dripping with lust.

Kibum sputters, coughs violently

That makes Taemin’s eyes open halfway, makes him stare straight at Jonghyun and defy the hungry gaze with a mischievous smile. He says nothing though. His only reply is a few deliberate licks around the base of his cone and then a long stroke all the way to the tip before taking _the whole thing in_ again.

Jonghyun stirs, moves to set his phone aside—.

“Guys.” Minho clears his throat. It makes them halt, though their eyes never leave each other. He frowns “We’ve talked about this. We’re not leaving the room just because you want to fuck with each other. _Or_ each other. Either you go to your own room or keep it PG while we’re all together.” and as an afterthought “ _Please_.”

It seems to do the trick.

Taemin stops with the noises, Jonghyun gradually slumps back on his recliner, the movie finally starts on the actual plot and the matter is set aside for exactly _eight seconds_ before the tension — the locked gazes, the little smirks, the bitten lips and audible breaths and the loud crunching of the waffle cone making Jonghyun twitch ever so slightly — becomes impossible to ignore.

Kibum’s about to snap at them when Taemin stands up, smiles wider and Jonghyun all but shoots out of his seat with a wolfish grin, takes his hand as he passes and rushes them both into their shared room.

Jinki follows them with his gaze until they are out of sight, until the door is shut.

He turns blankly to Minho “Turn it up.”

Kibum studies his face.

Contrary to him, Minho doesn’t spare a look, absorbed in the movie “Why?”

 _Three successive high pitched moans_ follow on cue.

“Goddammit, Mango!” Kibum starts, scrambles to grab the remote “Listen to the elders for once and turn that shit up!”

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a simple 300w drabble but Stuff happened. You have no idea.  
> Imagine yourself chilling with your mom, watching your avengers babes kick Chitauri ass, when you hear your neighbor MOAN. In succession. For ten seconds.  
> Yeah, we turned it the fuck up.  
> Also, don't get me started on why I have mixed feelings with The Incredible Hulk. I can't see any other Bruce besides Mark my boy.  
> Also, don't tell me Taem doesn't look like a BJ master by how he eats ice cream.


End file.
